Everybody's Knight
by Awahili
Summary: Angela gets an invite to a popular club from a lecherous ex-boyfriend. But when things get out of control, who comes to her rescue?


**Rating: K+** for minor themes and one bad word

**Spoilers: **None

**Setting:** Sometime before Hodgins/Angela. Probably late season one.

**Summary:** Angela gets an invite to a popular club from a lecherous ex-boyfriend. But when things get a little too out of hand, who comes to her rescue?

**A/N: **Okay, so this just popped into my head and I had to write it down. Is anyone else intrigued by the Booth/Angela friendship? I promise I'm working on _Heaven's Love_. My muse needed some sort of break.

* * *

"Bren, can I ask you a question?" Angela said, storming into her friend's office. Brennan looked up from her screen briefly and nodded.

"What do you need, Angela?" The artist sighed heavily and dropped down on the couch.

"Truth be told, I have a problem. And his name is Nathan Delacourt."

"Ange, I don't –"

"He's an ex-boyfriend, sweetie. He's back in town and he wants to 'hang out.'" She accentuated her last words with air quotes and an eye roll, leading Brennan to infer that Angela wasn't happy.

"What exactly would that entail?"

"Oh, the usual. Drinks, dinner, dancing, et cetera. Unfortunately, Nathan is my ex from a while back, when I had no sense, if you get my meaning."

"No, I don't," Brennan admitted, shaking her head. Angela had to smile at her friend's obliviousness. She loved her dearly, but sometimes the woman could be dense.

"It means he's a letch, sweetie. The worst kind really," she added, frowning. "And I know he'll want to get down and dirty at the end of the night."

"So just tell him you're currently involved," Brennan said as if she were stating an oh-so obvious fact about Bones. Angela just stared at her friend in shock.

"That's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant." Angela leapt from the couch grinning. "Gotta go, sweetie." Angela nearly skipped past the platform on her way to her office; she had a call to make.

* * *

"You want me to what?" Seeley Booth asked from his comfortable government office. He was finishing up the paperwork from his latest case when he'd received a rather perplexing phone call from the Jeffersonian's resident artist.

"I want you to come with me on a date."

"Ange, I'm flattered and all, but I can't really –"

"Relax, Romeo," he could hear the smile in her voice. "I just want you to tag along while I catch up with an ex-boyfriend. I would ask Brennan, but sometimes it needs a man's touch."

"So you want me to be your what…current boyfriend?"

"Nah," she dismissed quickly. "It would look too suspicious if I brought you without actually having mentioned you before. But if you could be at the club at the same time? I would feel a whole lot better."

"Who is this guy?" he asked, suddenly very curious.

"Well, Nathan's a guy I dated back in college. You know the kind; frat boy, party playboy, very salacious."

"And you think he might…?" he trailed off, hoping she would dismiss his theory. But her silence spoke volumes and suddenly he could see through her care free attitude. "Angela, did something happen in college?" There was only a beat, but her tone had changed enough.

"Look, Booth, if you don't want to –"

"I'll be there," he cut her off firmly. He was a tolerant guy – most times – but men who didn't respect women really pissed him off. "What time?"

"Uh…nine at the Fur Nightclub over on Patterson. Thanks Seeley." The fact that he could hear the relief in her voice just made his temper rise a little.

"It's not a problem, Ange. I'll see you there." He had to take a few minutes to cool his temper. For a moment he thought about pulling Angela's history just to get a look at the guy, but he knew that was a breech of trust. Sighing, he turned back to his paperwork and awaited the end of the day.

At half past seven he was showered, shaved, and standing in his closet clad in nothing but his underwear, perusing his wardrobe. The Fur was upscale, sure, and not too casual, and he needed something that would exude confidence. Deciding on black slacks and a dark cream Burberry polo, he pulled the ensemble on quickly and checked his appearance in the mirror. The shirt was tight-fitting across his chest and arms, and the short V-neck was perfect. Adding black leather Florsheim Welles oxfords and a matching belt completed the look.

He checked his full appearance once more before donning a black leather jacket and heading out the door. Traffic was as muddled as he'd predicted, and he pulled up to a lot on Patterson near the club at eight-thirty. He knew he was a little early, but he wanted to be in before Angela showed up with her date. He managed to get in before they charged cover and he quickly scoped the place out.

There was a huge dance floor, but it was still rather early so there weren't too many people out there. The Fur sported several private lounges and an espresso bar, which many were taking advantage of. Booth quickly found a table near the back with a good view of the door. He sat down, placed an order for a beer, and waited.

* * *

Angela smiled politely as Nathan opened her door. She had to admit he'd changed a bit since college. He led her through the door after waving a rather friendly hello to the bouncer.

"What would you like to drink?" he asked her.

"Long Island Iced Tea," she told him, and he placed the order at the bar. Angela scanned the crowd quickly, wondering if Booth was there yet. _Of course he is_, she told herself. Nathan handed her the drink and pulled her to a vacant table next to the dance floor. She watched the dancers bump and grind to the DJ's music, and she felt herself start to loosen up a little. He really did seem to have changed his ways, and he was turning out to be a rather enjoyable date. So she accepted when he wanted to dance, and she followed him out in to the throng. There weren't too many people, so she was rather surprised when he pulled her against him intimately, swaying his hips with hers. Without seeming too obvious, she scooted forward a few inches, but she never lost her rhythm.

They danced for a few songs before Angela needed a break, so he ordered her another drink while they caught their breath.

"Your dancing has improved," he commented, grinning at her.

"You're not so bad yourself," she shot back, thanking the waitress who brought their drinks. "What else have you been doing with your life other than traveling and making a lot of money."

"I took a trip to France last year," he told her. "It was nice. Just me and the people for two whole weeks. I even turned my cell off and didn't take my laptop."

"Wow," Angela laughed. "I didn't get to stay that long. I was on a school sponsored trip to the Louvre, and we were only there for a couple of days."

"That's a shame," he agreed. "There's so much more to France than Paris. The country is especially beautiful." She nodded with him and turned her gaze out onto the dance floor. There were a lot more people now, and the beat was getting louder.

"Another round?" he asked her, gesturing to the mass of people. She nodded and finished her drink before taking his hand and letting him lead her out.

* * *

Booth watched as her date pulled her out on the dance floor again. The first time he had pulled her very close and Booth had almost interfered at that moment. But Angela had taken care of the situation so he'd stayed where he was.

From his vantage point, Booth had seen their friendly conversation, and it looked as if she was genuinely having a good time. But still, he warned himself, anything could happen. He watched them dance for a moment before turning his scrutinizing gaze out over the crowd.

The Fur attracted a crowd a bit younger than he, but there were a few older couples tearing it up as well. Those who didn't come for dancing and loud music holed themselves up in the private lounges, talking and sipping their espressos. His eyes scanned them once more before returning to his target. But they had disappeared. Standing quickly, he left a tip on the table and began walking. Discreetly, he roved the entire club, hoping to spot the artist's unique profile, but she wasn't in sight.

* * *

"It's really hot in here," Nathan said from behind her. She laughed and nodded, her eyes indicating the mass of people moving and swaying around them. He wrapped an arm around her midsection and stepped in so close as to pull her flush with his body. "Let's go." Keeping an arm around her middle, he guided her off the dance floor and to the far side of the club. A man standing there greeted him by name and opened the door marked "Private." But as they entered, another voice called out in surprise from behind them.

"Angela!" She turned, and he did as well, to greet the newcomer. Nathan watched as a man several inches taller than he strolled up to them with a smile on his face. It made him look young, but Nathan could see the wisdom in his brown eyes.

"I haven't seen you in ages!" the man said, leaning forward to kiss Angela on the cheek. Nathan tightened his grip slightly and stuck out his free right hand.

"Nathan Delacourt," he greeted. "And you are?" The man took his hand firmly, crushing his in a grip that belied his strength.

"Seeley Booth, nice to meet you. You must be a big shot," he said, gesturing to the door behind them. Nathan's polite smile stretched into a proud one.

"You could say that. I frequent this establishment. And making a generous donation doesn't hurt." Seeley chuckled and nodded.

"I can imagine. So listen, if you aren't busy with our girl here, do you mind if I borrow her for a quick reunion? I promise we won't take long."

"Oh that would be great!" Angela cooed, following his lead. Turning to Nathan, she put on her best flirtatious smile. "I promise I'll come right back. Just excuse me for one second?"

But Nathan had not risen to the top so quickly because he was clueless. Narrowing his eyes, he kept his tone neutral.

"Why don't you leave a number where she can contact you? I'm sure she'll call you tomorrow." The smiled faded from the other man's face, and Nathan took an inadvertent step back at the transformation.

"Angela, it's your choice," he said, ignoring Nathan completely without actually taking his eyes off of him. "You can stay, or I can take you home now." Seeley's voice was no longer upbeat, but dangerously low. When Nathan felt Angela pulling away, he tightened his grip painfully, and she cried out.

"She came with me, she's leaving with me. Why don't you take yourself elsewhere." Nathan pulled himself up to his full height, intent on staring the man down. He hadn't counted on Angela swinging her handbag at his face.

"God, you haven't changed!" she shouted at him as he stumbled backwards. "I'm going home. Do _not_ call me again." She stalked away sharply, and Nathan could only watch her go. Seeley stayed a beat longer, his hard gaze freezing him to the spot. Then he turned and followed Angela out the door.

Once they were outside, Angela slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and hugged his arm.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure," he answered honestly. He escorted her to his car in silence, and shut her door for her. He started to drive to her place but she sighed deeply.

"Can you take me to Brennan's?" she asked quickly.

"Sure thing," he adjusted his course and settled back for a quiet ride. But Angela had other ideas.

"He did try something in college," she admitted quietly. "He didn't get very far then either," she mused.

"What can I say Ange?" he smirked at her. "You're just one feisty gal."

"Don't I know it. Any way, I'm not even sure why I agreed to come tonight," she chastised herself. "God, I was dumb. Of course he hadn't changed." He pursed his lips and searched for something to tell her that would make her feel better. The woman next to him was nothing like the headstrong artist he knew, but he had to try.

"Sometimes, we hope for the possibility of change," he told her sagely. "Or maybe something that makes me sound a little bit less like a fortune cookie." She laughed loudly at that, and he joined her. Suddenly, she was Angela again, and she turned the radio up and sang along with abandon.

When they pulled up to Brennan's apartment he parked the car and escorted her to the door. She kissed his cheek and thanked him once more as he knocked.

"What are friends for, right?" he shot back as a very confused Brennan opened the door.

"Booth and I are here for cheap beer and pizza," Angela flitted through the door towards the bathroom, leaving Booth to explain.

"It's a long story," he told her as she shut the door behind them. "I'll order the pizza, you get the beers, and we'll tell you all about it."


End file.
